


Fat Tuesday

by SassyEggs



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mardi Gras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22902697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyEggs/pseuds/SassyEggs
Summary: A tacky Mardi Gras themed party
Relationships: Sandor Clegane & Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 40
Kudos: 145





	Fat Tuesday

The beads were larger than most, metallic purple crowns and green alligators interspersed with glittery gold, all swinging almost drunkenly from the end of Joffrey’s outstretched finger. 

“Like ‘em?” he slurred, his mouth twisted. “You know what you have to do to get ‘em.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “No thanks.” 

“Knew you wouldn’t,” he sneered. “Too much of a goody-two-shoes to ever have any fun.” 

His cronies guffawed at the insult, lame is it was, but Sansa was beyond caring about what Joffrey thought of her. 

“Can we go?” she asked her friends after a solid hour of aimless wandering. 

“But we just got here,” Mya complained though the hundreds of beads around her neck told the opposite story. 

“Yeah, lighten up, Sansa,” Myranda added. “Can’t you cut loose even once?”

Sansa groaned. The only reason she was even at this dumb party was because Myranda talked her into it, just as she usually did for every new Lannister social event. And true, showing up meant giving Joff someone to taunt, but _not_ showing up might make him think he’d successfully run her off, and _that_ she could never allow. 

This party in particular, though, sucked more than usual. A tacky Mardi Gras themed affair where the obvious goal was getting girls to flash their boobs in order to earn beads. Mya and Myranda had risen to the challenge immediately, lifting their shirts at everyone as if they really were on Bourbon Street and not just in the ballroom of the local hotel. It wasn’t exactly Sansa’s type of event but she had to admit that the party was a success, absolutely everybody was there.

Absolutely _everybody_. 

For a man who seemed such a loner he sure did show up at a lot of crowded places, even if he did immediately retreat to a dark corner. Much like where he was at the present moment. Sansa fingered the peeling label of her hard cider and waited till he spotted her, showed him a weak smile that she hoped he found familiar. Because it seemed that at every single party, somehow, some way, they always found each other by the end of the evening. And when she walked up to him at that moment, it felt like finding a friend.

“Hey,” she said dumbly, then winced- he’d watched every step of her approach, it wasn’t like she had to announce herself. She just had the tendency to act completely stupid around him, apparently, though he never even reacted to whatever idiotic thing she said, just as he didn’t react now, only motioned at the strands around her neck with a tilt of his head.

“You earn those beads?” 

“I earned them the old fashioned way,” she huffed and rolled her eyes. “I _purchased_ them.”

He huffed back in response, then took a long sip of beer. A few beads hung around his neck. She wondered where he got those, if some random girl had given them to him in an effort to seduce him, or if he’d bought them with hopes of handing them out. She didn’t really like either one of those scenarios. Not that it mattered. Whatever came before, he was alone now. And he wasn’t drunk, either, and that was the most important part.

“So, uh… I have a test tomorrow that’s kind of important. And I was hoping to be home early, but my friends are… preoccupied. And you don't really seem like you’re having a good time. So I was wondering…”

“You need a ride.” 

It wasn’t even a question, really, and he didn't wait for an answer, just stood and motioned for her to follow him. She didn’t even bother saying goodbye to her “friends.”

It was nice being with him sometimes, always weirdly warm as if a subtle heat hung between them whenever they were alone. Out on the sidewalk and heading to the parking lot, she could almost pretend he was taking her home from a date instead of home from a crappy party only cause she’d asked. He even opened her door for her, helped her up into the passenger seat before walking around to the driver’s side. _So gallant._

“What time’s your test at?” he asked, buckling his seat belt. 

“1:15.”

A moment of heavy silence filled the cab; when Sansa finally turned to look at him his face was twisted into confusion.

“In the _afternoon?”_

“Yes?” she said, defensive. “It was the only time available.”

It felt like a stupid response, but she had no idea where he was even going with the question in the first place so it was the best she could do. He didn't say any more about it till they were well on their way. 

“What’s it on?”

“Driving.”

Another heavy silence, and then a baffled- 

_“What?”_

“It’s a driving test,” she said again, confused.

“Are you joking? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What?”

“You made me take you home early because you have a _driving_ test? In the _afternoon?”_

“It’s important! And I didnt make you do anything.”

“God, you are such a nerd.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nerd. Dork. Square.” 

“You know, I don’t really take those as insults,” she told him, trying desperately to keep her tone light so he wouldn’t know that she actually _did_ sort of take them as insults. But then he shook his head, expression softening into something almost soothing when he said-

“They’re not _meant_ to be insults.”

She gaped at him, unsure of that to think. It really _didn’t_ sound like an insult when he said it, that was true, just a simple statement of fact because she really was a square, she knew that. But he was the only one who shrugged and just went with it, the one who perfectly demonstrated the _‘so what’_ she wished she could feel. The one person in her social circle that didn’t make her feel like a burden just by existing and she realized, then, what it was that made her gravitate towards him.

He was her safe space. Her sanctuary. Whenever she was with him she felt like nothing in the world would ever hurt her, that no one would even try. Even now, easing out onto the interstate in his massive F-150 she had a feeling that she would always be fine, just as long as he was beside her. And for the first time that evening she thought that maybe it would be okay to cut up a bit, to let loose with someone who had her back. 

“What are you doing?” he hissed when she pulled her shirt off. 

She couldn’t help but laugh, because that was pretty much the exact reaction she was hoping for. 

“You trying to prove something?” he demanded hotly. “Is that it?

“Maybe,” she shot back, amused but not surprised by the way he kept his eyes on the road. What would he do if she went even further, she wondered. Would the temptation be too much? She had to know. 

His entire body tensed when she unhooked her bra and slipped it down her shoulders, and she would swear he stopped breathing when she dropped the garment into the seat beside him. He still hadn’t looked. And he _wouldn’t_ look, knowing it wasn’t her intention to be seen, of that she was absolutely certain.

“Someone’s gonna see you,” he protested, his face so red she thought his head might explode. 

“Someone,” she agreed. “But not _you_.”

And then she rolled the passenger window down, let the wind whip her hair all around her and steal away the squeals she let loose out into the night. Gusts of chilly air brought prickles to her bare skin making her laugh, silly and giddy and wild as the wind yet somehow utterly safe. 

No, not _somehow_. 

Sansa glanced over her shoulder to the man beside her, eyes wild and knuckles white from his iron grip on the steering wheel. Here she was, completely topless in his truck, exposed to anyone at all who wanted to look, and he still had not even stolen a peek. And it warmed her to know she was right about him, so much that she almost didn’t even notice the subtle slowing that meant they’d reached her exit. _Almost,_ but not quite. She quickly shimmied back into her blouse, arms through the sleeves just as he came to a red light, then sat there in silence save for her erratic breathing. 

“Pretty proud of yourself, aren’t ya?” he grumbled, doing everything he could to make her think he was annoyed when the truth was she knew he liked it. So she didn’t say anything, just laughed at their shared joke because yeah, she actually _did_ think she was funny. “Nerd.”

There was that word again, but the way he said it this time was playful, almost affectionate. And it wasn’t an insult; he’d specifically said so. So when he finally pulled up to her little bungalow and she slid out of the seat, she already knew how she wanted to tell him good night. 

“Hey Sandor,” she said, and lifted her shirt up to her chin.

To say his reaction was everything at that moment would be an understatement, the way he flinched and sucked in a breath was even better than she would have imagined. And remarkably, she wasn’t nervous or self-conscious at all, only thrilled at the almost-palpable way his eyes traced her. So she let him take a good long wide-eyed look before finally dropping the hem. “See you later.”

With that she turned and scurried up the sidewalk, not once looking back, didn’t allow herself the hysterical giggles till she had firmly closed the door behind her. 

Now all she had to do was wait for him to come knock on her door. And he _would_ come knock, she was certain, and not just because she knew he liked what he saw but because she’d left her bra in his passenger seat.


End file.
